Distractions
by Keep Calm And Dramione On
Summary: Hermione tries her best to stay focused, but that proves to be difficult with her professor showing a certain...interest in her. Rated T for later chapters.
1. Being Watched

**Not my first fanfiction, but the first of this pairing. Review and let me know if you're interested for more chapters. ****Thanks!**

**-Alessandra.**

**P.S. Je ne suis pas J.K. Rowling. **

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**XXX**

She was sure it was only her imagination, but she swore he watched her.

Hermione Granger sat primly in her seat at the very first desk of the hall, her eyes trained delicately at the man commanding the front of the room.

"Now, who can tell me which creature has skin that can repel charms?"

She smirked to herself as she felt her hand shoot up. _Easy. _

"The Manticore, Professor Lupin."

She was right, of course; and, as always, she was rewarded with that signature lopsided smile.

"Correct again, Miss Granger."

Hermione sighed and tore her gaze away from his face. She had to stay focused. Exams were only a few weeks away. She didn't have the time to indulge in such distractions.

Her eyes were caught as he moved next to Terry Boot a few feet from her. She could see the stubble lining the hard edge of his jaw, and she swore she could smell musk about him. His gaze rose for a moment over Terry's head, and his hazy gray eyes pierced hers wordlessly for a moment. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat.

Oh, and what distraction it was.

Hermione blushed and shook her head roughly, as if to dispel the thoughts lingering in her head. _To think of a professor that way!_

She was pulled from her less-than-appropriate thoughts by a voice behind her.

"Got a wrackspurt, do you?" Luna Lovegood was hovering behind Hermione, a shock of white blonde hair pulled up with what looked like seaweed, signature bottle caps rattling around her neck.

Hermione worked her features into a smile, trying to push his eyes out of her mind.

"No, just a headache. I'll be alright."

Luna shrugged her shoulders. "You think that at first, but by the time you figure it out, it's too late. Be careful, Hermione…"

The bushy haired Gryffindor struggled to keep from laughing.

"Of course, Luna…" she said, barely concealing a grin from her lips.

Professor Lupin's voice reached her ears from the front of the classroom. "That's it for today. Six inches of parchment on Manticores due tomorrow."

Hermione glanced up once before gathering her books only to find a pair of wolfish eyes watching her. She ducked her head abruptly and swept out of the room; sure her cheeks were a fiery crimson by now.

She couldn't see behind her as she hurried towards the Great Hall, but she swore that, upon turning round, she would find him pushed against the doorway, eyes on her.

If only she knew how right she was.

**XXX**


	2. Sunlight

Sun streamed through broad windows, the air thick with dust. Hermione was tucked away in her favorite corner of the library, flipping furiously between a heavy, thick-paged book and a length of parchment that trailed its way down to the floor.

In the usual fashion, she expertly tuned out the chatter of the students scattered haphazardly in and out of the shifting aisles of books. There was little that could distract Hermione Granger while she studied.

"…of course, Irma. It's in my office as we speak. I will bring it down later."

Despite her resolve, Hermione was pulled from her essay by a hoarse voice drifting over the shelves. A voice she had come to recognize quite well.

She looked up to see Professor Lupin standing at the end of the row, nodding reassuringly to Madam Pince before turning his back to her, a look of guilt on his face.

Hermione found herself calling out to him.

"It seems you don't have the book you were supposed to return."

Professor Lupin turned towards her, a sly grin spreading across his face upon seeing Hermione.

"You're not going to tell on me, are you?" Hermione was surprised at the playful note in his voice.

His scrutiny threw her off kilter for a moment, and she found herself stuttering out an answer.

"N-no, Professor…"

He moved towards her leisurely, stopping only a few steps behind her.

"What novel are you frantically devouring now, Miss Granger?" His voice was low and gravelly, a sound that sent a tremor through her bones. _Stop it, Hermione. Control yourself._

Hermione straightened herself and answered, ignoring the shakiness she was sure was present in her voice. "It is never too early to begin studying, Professor."

He scoffed at her slightly and gestured to the light flooding in through the stained windows.

"It's a gorgeous day out there," he murmured, shifting towards her slowly. "You really ought to go see it."

While he spoke, his eyes did not leave hers. She sat unmoving, speechless for a moment.

Hermione let go a shaky breath and turned away from him, sure his gaze was still focused on her.

"I have to get back to work." She said softly, not daring to turn her head.

She watched him straighten up out of the corner of her eye, holding her breath.

He nodded his head softly. "I will see you in class, Miss Granger."

She didn't respond, not trusting her voice. Only when he was at safe distance from her did she lift her head, watching his retreating form carefully.

She sat like that for a long while before finally dropping her head into her hands, exhaling heavily.

There was a heavy weight in her heart—hidden under her utter confusion was a deep pit of guilt. She couldn't deny what she felt, and she knew it would eat away at her.

_Bloody hell, _she thought. _So much for studying._

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_**A/N: I'd like to clarify something. Although it is canon that Lupin is the DADA professor at Hogwarts in Hermione's third year, I have tweaked the timeline slightly so that he is teaching there during the Golden Trio's sixth year. It makes more sense that way. This pairing is strange enough, it doesn't need to occur when Hermione is fourteen. Therefore, this way, she is seventeen and of age during this story. **  
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_**I am uploading these chapters quite quickly while I still have the time and the ability to write them, so I apologize for any errors- either grammatical or otherwise- that occur. I will most likely re-edit at a later time.**_

_**As always, please let me know what you think!**_


	3. Out Of Sorts

******A/N: Just so everyone is aware, I am currently in the midst of finding a beta, so I apologize for any errors. I am also attempting to post chapters as soon as possible, as a way to make up for the complete lack of updating for Only In Your Dreamus. **

**I also promise that chapters will get much longer - I am currently in the middle of my final exams. Once I have more time, it'll be much easier to spend more time on each section.**

**Thanks for the reviews and support!**

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**XXX**

"_Hermione—"Lupin groaned, grazing her ear with his cheek. His large hands held her hips possessively as he pushed her back against the rough stone wall. She arched her back, pressing into him._

_Hermione took his jaw into her hands, reveling in the stubble that lined his cheeks. She pulled his face to hers, and pressed her lips to his, ever so softly—_

Hermione awoke to Crookshanks pawing at her face impatiently. Groaning, she pushed the large cat off her chest and rolled over, hiding her burning cheeks under the thick quilt.

_I can't believe…_

_This is so wrong…_

Hermione's thoughts stumbled incoherently around her head. Finally, after her heartbeat returned to a normal range and her cheeks had faded to a rosy shade of pink, she sat up to find Crookshanks perched at the end of her bed, watching the bushy-haired girl apprehensively.

"Oh, don't start." Hermione scolded the ginger tabby. She looked up to see Ginny Weasley observing this interaction with a confused expression.

"Did, er, Crookshanks offend you?"

Hermione shook her head, sighing softly.

"I must be still asleep." Hermione explained, yanking back the tapestries and sliding out of bed.

"Well," Ginny started, gesturing to the clock, "You'd better wake up soon. Lessons start in a few minutes."

Hermione's eyes widened; Ginny heard a muttered obscenity as Hermione rushed towards the bathroom.

Ginny peered around the doorway curiously.

"Hermione…? Are you sure that you're okay? You seem a little out of sorts."

With a toothbrush jammed in her mouth impatiently, Hermione did not answer.

She shakily tried to steady herself. _You can't act like this. Calm down._

Taking a few deep breaths, Hermione managed to do just that. Until, of course, upon returning to the dormitory, she realized that her afternoon lesson was not double Potions with the Slytherins as she had thought. It was Defense Against the Dark Arts—taught by the one and only Professor Lupin.

"Here we go again…" Hermione mumbled under her breath.

**XXX**


	4. Passion

**XXX**

A typical day at Hogwarts whirled around Hermione Granger at a tumultuous pace. Transfiguration lessons to lunch in the library (she still felt too nervous to face the Great Hall—and the Gryffindor table) until she found herself travelling down the corridor to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Hermione slowed her pace, trailing slightly behind Ron and Harry. Her heart had been skittering a fast pace ever since her blush-inducing dreams that morning, but for the sake of secrecy, she had done her best to keep calm. The last thing she needed were her two best—albeit a bit oblivious—friends to know about her petty crush.

Despite her reluctance, they arrived at the doorway. Earlier that day, while she had pretended to look for the book on moonstone she needed for Potions, Hermione had come to a resolution, in spite of the knots twisting in her stomach.

_If this gets any worse,_ she reasoned with herself, _I'll just confront Re—Professor Lupin. He's a reasonable man._ Hermione took a seat near the back of the cavernous room, desperate for some distance from the man commanding the classroom.

In the front, Lupin was beginning his lesson, much more somber than Hermione had seen him the day before in the library.

"Today," Lupin strolled around the classroom; hands clasped, "We will be discussing the ability to resist curses—specifically, one of the Unforgivable Curses we went over earlier this year."

A few students shifted in their seats. Although the lesson Professor Lupin had provided on the Unforgivable Curses had been as mild as he could manage, many were still haunted by the brutality of Barty Crouch Jr., posing as Mad-Eye Moody, in their third year.

Professor Lupin spoke softly, assessing the students in the room. When Hermione met his eyes, she felt a tremour run through her.

"As the Imperius Curse is concerned with the control of the mind, a witch or wizard with a particularly strong mental capacity may have the ability to defend or completely thwart an attempt." Hermione gazed around the room, desperate to focus her eyes on anything other than the defined jawline lining Lupin's face.

"Now, there is no definite way to resist the Imperius Curse with any specific counter-curses, but the use of Occlumency,"—Hermione was sure she saw Lupin's eyes hold Harry's in the row over—"can be one useful defense against this curse."

"Professor Lupin?" Lavender Brown raised a timid hand in the third row. "What is Oc—Occlumency?"

Hermione's fingers danced across the desk in a rapid pattern. It would never occur to her classmates or professors, but a part of her motivation to answer all the questions was to avoid the dim-witted answers some of her peers provided.

She was tired, having slept fitfully the night before, and her eyelids started to droop as the lull of Lupin's voice continued in the front of the room. And what a lovely voice it was.

**XXX**

"Psst!" Hermione felt a shove at her arm. Her eyes flew open to see Ron poking her with the end of his quill, looking slightly concerned.

"Were you…gonna take notes? 'Cause if you don't, me and Harry have to an'…" The idea of having to take notes seemed to have Ron a bit queasy. Hermione rubbed her eyes and reached into her bag for her quill and a fresh roll of parchment.

Unfortunately, taking notes required her attention on the one dictating the lesson…someone she was trying very hard to pretend didn't exist.

"You see, some magic is more than a wave of the wand or a muttered incantation." Lupin said, moving down the aisle between desks. Hermione kept her eyes on her paper as she scribbled furiously, her hands trembling slightly.

"Magic, especially powerful magic," Lupin was nearer now, his voice smooth and low, "requires the attention of the mind—and the heart. You have to put your emotion and intention into your actions."

Hermione's attention was caught and her head jerked up, eyes on Professor Lupin. He was looking straight at her now, much to the oblivion of the rest of the Gryffindors, most lost in a sleepy stupor.

"It's much like Apparation, but with much more passion." Lupin's eyes were boring into Hermione's; she was growing uneasy in her seat.

"You have to mean it." The words slipped out of Hermione's mouth before she could stop them. Lupin held her gaze for a moment longer, a flicker alight in his eyes, before he turned and walked to the front of the room.

"There is no assignment," he spoke softly, addressing the students, "but I encourage you to do some research on Occlumency in the upcoming week. This discussion will be continued within the fortnight."

Hermione did not take notice of his words. She was too focused on attempting, in vain, to slow the beating of her heart. When Professor Lupin dismissed the class, she stayed seated, slowly and deliberately rolling up her parchment.

"Go on ahead," she smiled briskly up at Ron and Harry. "I'll meet you in the Common Room."

Professor Lupin had already ascended the stairs into his office above the classroom. Hermione took a deep breath as she stood, hitched her bag over her shoulder, and followed him.

**XXX**

Hermione steeled herself before knocking on the heavy wooden door to Professor Lupin's office. _Just a student talking to a professor. _She heard some movement within, and the door opened slowly, revealing a dark-eyed Remus Lupin.

"Miss Granger," he murmured, his voice hushed, "Please, come in."

She walked into his office with small steps, taking a seat at the wooden chair in front of the ornate bureau at his gesture. He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"What can I help you with? Is it something with Harry?" he said, training his eyes on her.

Hermione suddenly felt a large drop in confidence as she took in his face, impassive and curious.

"U-um, no, I just—"Hermione was at a loss. How could she be so foolish? How could she say anything at all, when she still wasn't convinced it wasn't all just her imagination running amuck?

She twisted her hands nervously, coughed a bit, then stood. "Er, I should have never—"she began to turn towards the door. "I'll just—"

Lupin caught her arm as she turned, pulling Hermione back towards his form. He kept a hand on her shoulder, warm through the fabric of her cloak.

"Hermione, what in the world has got you so nervous?" He smirked softly.

She felt her cheeks burn and ducked her head down to her chest. "I'm sorry, Professor, I made a mistake in coming here," Hermione murmured.

Lupin took her chin in his fingers, lifting her face to meet his. "You'll have to speak up," he said, "although I'm surprised I have to ask you that at all."

Hermione giggled despite herself, face still turned up towards Lupin. Her body felt inflamed and hot under her clothes, and his hand on her shoulder might as well been burning a handprint through her cloak.

As her smile faded, she become conscious of the proximity of the man who had been holding precedence in her thoughts for the past few weeks—his hand was still lifting her chin, their eyes caught in the stagnant moment.

Hermione expected him to pull away at any moment, but they stood, motionless, save the rising of their chests in breath. She could feel her heart racing madly in her ribcage, and, on an instinct worthy of her Gryffindor bravery, she uttered one word like an oath.

"Remus—"she whispered, her voice throaty, and for an exquisite, perfect moment, she swore he began to lean towards her; his full lips mere centimeters away from hers—

Then the spell was broken.

Lupin's hand dropped from her chin, and he moved backwards, away from her, stumbling, catching himself on the edge of the desk. Hermione exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and turned towards the door, her cheeks and heart aflame.

"Hermione," he said, solemn as a prayer.

She spun on her heels and faced him, her heart still flitting like a wild bird in her chest.

"Yes?"

"Don't come back here." His eyes were dark, and his fingers were gripping the table before him sharply.

Hermione's words caught in her throat as she turned and pulled open the door in one fluid movement, stumbling down the stairs and out of the classroom.

Lupin collapsed in a chair, rubbing his features anew in the rough callous of his hands. In his head danced images of the gold and rouged Hermione, her bright curls bouncing, alabaster skin shining. He could feel her warmth still under his fingers and he moaned inwardly at the thought.

Hermione rushed along the deserted corridor before lurching into the bathroom, her eyes leaking tears before the door swung shut behind her. In the safety of the creaky stall, she collapsed on the rough stone floor and let herself cry.


End file.
